‘I mustn’t be late.’
‘You won’t be late.’
‘I should never have worn heels. What was I thinking with these cobbles?’
‘The boat won’t leave without us.’
‘I just wanted to look nice. Monty liked me in a dress and heels. He was old-fashioned like that.’
‘You look lovely.’
‘I should have worn my tennis shoes.’
‘We’re nearly here now.’
‘I wasn’t sure about this dress.’
‘You look lovely.’
I’ve never seen Cricket like this before. She’s tense, almost nervous. We’re making our way down to the harbour from the hotel. It’s mid-morning and I’ve offered to accompany her on the boat today. I’d assumed she wanted to be alone, that it was a private moment, but she seemed grateful, relieved almost, and readily accepted my offer.
The small red fishing boat is waiting for us. Andreas, the somewhat gruff captain, is standing on the dock and greets us with a respectful dip of his head. He’s decorated the wooden hull with bunches of fresh bougainvillea, bright cerise and blush pink, and their petals flutter and shine in the breeze like tiny butterflies. It’s a thoughtful touch and makes Cricket relax and smile. I feel a blast of gratitude towards him.
He’s taking Cricket’s arm to help her board when we hear a voice.
‘Catherine—’
Someone is calling her name. We both turn to see a figure waving as he hurries towards us. Smartly dressed, but for his espadrilles and straw hat. As he nears, I see his heavily lined face, darkly tanned other than his white beard and long hair, which he’s tied into a ponytail. He needs no introduction. Sixty years must have passed, but he’s instantly recognizable from the photograph.
Pablo.
He slows down as he reaches us, and for the briefest of moments I watch as they take each other in, before Cricket steps forward and together they embrace. It’s my cue to leave.
A few minutes later I sit on a bench away from the harbour, watching as the boat sails towards the headland. The waves glitter and bounce and I watch it getting smaller and smaller, carrying its precious cargo: two people, one love. They have so much to talk about and share, reconciling their ghosts from the past and celebrating the man they both loved.
The sun shines brightly and a warm breeze blows. It’s a beautiful day for it.
I’m grateful for: